


Prompt #1

by Schach



Series: Schach fills Prompts [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Crack, M/M, prompts, these are stories I write from prompts and would like to gather in one place, very random things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 06:48:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schach/pseuds/Schach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes I get stuck while writing so I ask for prompts on Tumblr. Then I fill them. Sometimes I don't and I put them away for a rainy day, to fill at another time. So I'll just post them here when I finish them. That way I will have them all in one place. Anyway here, have a little bit of everything :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prompt #1

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first prompt I got :) It requested that Mr. Tumnus meet a lovely Shark while walking through the woods. Or something like that. Anyway here.

“Stupid, stupid Tumnus, I told you not to get involved with him,” Mr. Tumnus was muttering to himself as he wandered into another clearing, much like the ones he’d been stumbling upon for the past three or so hours.

He had known better than to get involved with that satyr, Goatbender. Not even a proper Mr. in front of the name. But somehow, against his better judgment, he’d let those smoldering eyes tempt him into submission.

And for some reason completely unknown to himself, he had let the other lead him all the way back to his house, across a field, over a bridge and through the woods, only to be abruptly dismissed when that vapid forest nymph had flitted past. That hateful Emma Frost, the bane of Mr. Tumnus’ existence, who pulled his tail when he wasn’t looking, or stole his scarves when he took them off for a quick wash in the creek, had strolled slowly past, cocking a seductive finger at that stupid Goatbender and away he’d went.

Which would explain why, half a day later, Mr. Tumnus was sitting on a boulder in afore mentioned clearing, tugging nervously at his goatee. He had absolutely no clue where he was, having followed the satyr blindly, thinking only of knitting a pair of matching scarves for the two of them, and therefore had no idea of how to get home.

“Oh, Mr. Tumnus, you are a fool. How will you get back to your cave in time to pull that stew off of the fire?” he sighed, forcing himself to his feet and continuing on.

Moments later he began to panic when he heard the sound of rushing water, large rushing waves. He couldn’t be by the wilder part of the ocean. That was almost a day’s walk from his home, where the water was calm and silent. He hadn’t been walking that far had he? What a great day. First his sexy, troublesome companion abandons him for a leafy tart, then he gets lost, and now (and this is the part that really sends him over the edge, and lets his tears cascade over his face) by the time he gets home his wonderful stew will be either burnt to a crisp or completely evaporated.

Tears rolling down his face he drifted down to the water, going deeper and deeper until the water was mid-torso.  He might just rather drown himself then accept that he would not, in fact, be having warm, broth soaked vegetables for dinner that night.

“Mr. Tumnus, the things you do for tail,” his friend Raven, the chameleon, had said to him once, and at the moment he found he had to concede the point.

“The utterly deplorable things you do for men in fur with tails,” he whined to himself rather loudly. He figured if he was miserable, the world deserved to know.

“Who does what for men in fur with tails?” a voice questioned nearby, but looking around Mr. Tumnus saw no one.

“Apparently I do. Because I had a _perfectly_ wonderful dinner prepared, and I went out to grab one more potato, only I didn’t _have_ one. So I went over to ask Stryker, he’s a skunk, and rather unkind but he does grow the best veggies … I’m getting off track. Anyways, I went over to get a potato from him. And who should I run into on my way there other than Goatbender?  I mean he isn’t even a proper faun, just a satyr, but that tail, and those strong legs and ugh, I just had to take him up on his offer to,” and here Mr. Tumnus’ mind caught up to him for he paused on the verge of saying something possibly very  inappropriate, and asked suspiciously,” Just who am I talking to anyway?”

He frowned suspiciously at a fin that was suddenly there, poking out of the water and gliding towards him. He crossed his arms and sighed, “Shaw, you miserable dolphin, I am not in the mood to play with you today.”

“I am not a dolphin,” the deep voice of the owner of the fin, now lazily circling him, practically barked,   
“And I am not Shaw, that stupid annoying happy-go-lucky mammal.”

“I’d ask if you’d met, but that’s obviously a yes. So, well, what are you then? Are you an Orca?” Mr. Tumnus asked curiously, anxious to stroke the other’s fin, the way Shaw asked him to sometimes, because he said it calmed him, and the way this stranger was acting, he was obviously _highly_ agitated.

“I’m a shark, of course,” came the reply, and suddenly a mouthful of gleaming sharp teeth came flying out of the water as the shark did some complicated, fancy flip that Mr. Tumnus had only ever seen Shaw do. Given the other man’s reaction to the name, he decided not to mention this fact.

“Of course you are. I mean look at those teeth!” he gushed, because really, why not flatter the more powerful predator in this situation? He was rather attached to his hooves and did not want them ending up in some sharks stomach.

“I could probably eat that Goatbender guy. Making a defenseless little faun such as yourself cry,” sharky said confidently, brushing against Mr. Tumnus’ side in what he must have thought to be a comforting gesture, but really was only startling as a) Mr. Tumnus did not expect to ever in his life be coddled by a shark and b) he’d gone against the fur, which really was, in Mr. Tumnus’ opinion a rookie mistake in Seducing a Faun 101.

 As it was he frowned and sniffled, “I was not _crying_ over Goatbender. Puh-lease. Goatbender and Emma Floozy can have each other for all I care. I was crying because I’m so far from my home. Remember the dinner I was talking about? If I’m not home soon, it will be completely _unedible_.”

“What kind of dinner? Where do you live?” the shark asked, again rubbing against his side, this way going _with_ the fur and Mr. Tumnus fought a delicious shiver.

“Stew. Vegetable stew. And I live in a cave all the way on the other side of this peninsula,” Mr. Tumnus sighed, resigning himself to no dinner. He would have to starve to demonstrate the unfairness of this situation.

“If you throw some fish in that stew, I’ll take you. I do enjoy cooked fish every once in a while.”

“Oh, you have a deal!” Mr. Tumnus gasped, actually clapping his hands on delight, “Take me home and catch a fish on the way, yes? I’ll run home cook it, and bring it back to you. We could have a little waterside dinner!”

“I’m Mr. Tumnus, by the way,” he smiled as he climbed onto the shark’s back, “What’s your name?”

“Erik,” the shark snapped, but Mr. Tumnus figured that was just in his nature as a shark.

“Well, Erik,” he purred as they began to move through the water, “ I’ll have you know, I don’t _only_ like furry tales. Slippery when wet tails are nice too.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
